I’ve realized why most (if not all) girls are stupid. It’s the same thing that causes dumb children and might even explain what’s wrong with retards.

So what could tarts, ankle biters and non retarded adult females have in common? Simple – they all scream.

You can find “The Ian” on myspace here

I have a gun.  It is kept in a case with a trigger lock in my dresser drawer.  I keep it there because I do not want to carry it with me.  Not because I am not trained to do so (I am, ridiculously so).  Not because I am afraid that it will be taken from me (it won’t).  No, I do not want to carry it on me because I am afraid I will use it… not in defense, not in aggression.  But I am afraid that I will act as the right hand of God.

And smite the stupid people.

There is no shortage of them… lemmings, rushing to conclusions, suicidal almost in thir absolute disregard for common sense.  And logic.  And common courtesy.  In my opinion, God must have sprinkled the world with these morons for a little flavoring, to spice things up.

But I’m not one for the taste.

Some instances that drive me nuts…

1.  One day, at the bank in the drive-thru teller, funniness happens.  It’s probably only funny to me, because I’m a sick and twisted motherfucker… and my humor is warped enough to see irony in just about anything.  But this grabbed me in a special way and made me laugh my ass off.

I’m at the little box, sticking my money in and watching it get whisked magically up the suction tube to the little old lady in the bulletproof glass cage, when I glance to my right.  I see a humongous Chevy Tahoe in the next lane.  I see the bumper, and it has one of those “My Child Made the Honor Roll at…” bumper stickers.  I think, “how nice,” and then the huge SUV begins to pull away.  And smacks into the pole supporting the roof, shreds the side panels and knocks the mirror off the door.

All I can think at this point, as I’m pissing my pants, is “I guess it’s not genetic…”

2.  My girlfriend and I spent last weekend at a wedding and we needed to get some supplies.  So we stopped at CVS.  Apparently, CVS is a moron depot… or at least, they attract the worst and the dullest. 

I went to get some razor blades, which apparently require closer surveillance than loopy Korean English-majors at VaTech.  They are in a locked drawer with a lever to pull… when I did, it let out an ear-splitting ratcheting sound.  When I released it, I noticed this tiny little tag that read, “Please ask for assistance,” implying that well-educated me is too dumb to be trusted with my own razor blades.  As I revel in the stupidity of this, a behemoth of a woman booms from the other end of the store (in my best Bonqueisha Jones voice) “Yo.  You need to have a associate git dat for you.  Cain’t you read the sign?” 

Instead of debating with her, we just asked for that assistance… to be “helped wit dat.”  None came.  We left, offended.

We flittered away to the CVC down the street, eight blocks away.  We retold our story to a cashier.  As it’s rapping up, she apologizes to us for the other store’s rudeness.  She tells us that it’s appalling.  And a little old lady walks up at this point, politely interjects, and asks where to find the white chocolate Kit Kats.  The cashier gets huffy, turns to her, and belches out “I. Am with. A customer.  How rude of you to interrupt!”

We are mortified.

How stupid.

Please share your finest tales of outlandish, profound bone-headedness with me.